


anchor up to me, love

by pragmatic



Category: The 100
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Pirate AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-28
Updated: 2017-03-28
Packaged: 2018-10-12 03:13:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10480824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pragmatic/pseuds/pragmatic
Summary: "Duty? You've kidnapped me from my home—"He held up a finger. "Kindly saved your life, which you still haven't thanked me for."She ignored his correction.or the pirate au no one asked for





	

**Author's Note:**

> if u have trouble picturing stuff just imagine pirates of the caribbean because that's where my inspiration came from

_and I hear the ship is comin' in your tears a sea for me to swim_  
_and I hear a storm is comin' in  
my dear is it all we've ever been?_

\---

He plunged his sword in the mans stomach, and watched the light leak out of his eyes. But there wasn't time to acknowledge the guilt already settling in his stomach, two more pirates from the Dreadknaught crew rushed at him, slewing words of havoc that they could never live up to. He ducked the blow of their swords and he heard them clang together above his head, he slashed each of their legs and they fell to the ground with matching cries. He slit their throats without hesitation and left them to bleed out on the deck.

He dodged more attempts for his head as he made his way below deck; to the treasure.

He kicked at the lock until it sprung free, and he lifted the trunk lid. Glittering rubies and diamonds shone back at him, and he didn't need to check to know that he was smiling.

He heard the clunk of a boot behind him, and he was on his feet in a flash with his sword at their throat.

Raven rolled her eyes and swatted it away. "It's just me. You find their treasure?"

He let his sword graze her throat slightly as he pulled it away, just to show that he was still in charge. "It's right behind me, three trunks, mostly rubies."

She pushed past him to get her eyes on the loot, and he crouched beside her. "We holding up, up there?"

She nodded and ran her fingers over the gems. "We tied the remaining survivors to the mast, to send any crew that comes to help a message. Millers' going to slit one of their wrists each."

He nodded and stood. He had trained his crew well, and he was glad they hadn't decided to massacre every last one of the Dreadknaughts. Even if they were one of the nastiest crews in Samania, he wasn't fond of putting unnecessary blood on his hands.

\---

The ship lurched and he jerked awake, smiling as he breathed in the salty ocean air. He swung his legs over the bed and tugged on his boots and billowy white shirt. He glanced at the girl still in his bed, and decided to let the slam of his door wake her up.

He strutted out onto his deck to see most of the crew already up.

"Captain!" Miller shouted, jogging toward him and handing him a map.

He took it and looked it over. "What am I looking at?"

Miller pointed excitedly at the top corner. "We found it. The treasure of Old Man Shivers, it's right there. About a months trip away."

He scoffed. "Two weeks if we go through Classa." He thrust the map in Millers chest and went to take over the wheel.

Miller chased after him. "But, Captain, we're banned from Classa."

Bellamy smirked. "We're pirates, Miller, since when do we obey the rules?"

Miller grinned. "Never, Captain." He trotted off down the deck and Bellamy spun the wheel.

"To Classa!" He shouted. "And to being the richest we can ever be!"

The crew pumped their fists in the air and jeered in response.

"Argh!" He screamed, feeling the adrenaline of the thought of a new voyage spread through his veins.

\---

She let her eyes flutter open, and sighed contently. She froze as the next thought popped into her head; she was getting married tomorrow.

She slipped from her silk sheets and pulled on her robe that hung beside her bed. Tugging her golden hair into a messy braid, she skipped down the stairs to the kitchen.

Kissing her father on the cheek, she sat down at her place at the table and dug into her french toast. She mumbled her praise to Linda, the chef, between mouthfuls.

Her dad peeked at her over the morning paper. "Are you excited for tomorrow, Clarke?"

She swallowed. "Of course. Speaking of, has Graham called for me?"

He nodded, turning back to his paper. "You're supposed to be ready for noon."

She shoveled the rest of her breakfast into her mouth and took her dishes to the kitchen, handing them off to Daniel.

He smiled kindly. "Thank you, princess."

She gave him a look. "I don't know how many times I have to tell you to call me Clarke."

He turned to the sink, dunking her dishes in the water. "I don't know how many times I have to tell you that you will always be princess."

She rolled her eyes before leaving the kitchen and heading up the stairs again, taking them two at a time.

It wasn't that she didn't like Graham, he was a fine enough gentleman, but she would never love him. He was too full of himself, he never did anything unless he would get something in return. The only reason she agreed to marry him was because it would seal the alliance between their kingdoms. Classa and Aliasance would forever be bounded by the marriage of their prince and princess.

The mere thought made her sick.

She brushed out her hair and set to putting it in an intricate halo braid atop her head. She called Amelia to help her with her corset, and then she was ready to meet Graham for their rehearsal.

Unfortunately.

\---

Classa was one of the largest kingdoms in all of Samania, its only rival was Aliasance.

Bellamy was from neither, he'd grown up in a small village off the side of a mountain who's name hadn't been spoken in years. He'd been happy there, until it was burned to the ground by a wild forest fire. His mother had died, and most of everyone he'd ever known had perished as well. He had managed to save his sister, but she refused to speak to him after he became a pirate.

He couldn't much blame her.

His dream wasn't ever to become a pirate, he had wanted to find someone and build a home, begin working at a school, teaching children native languages and the history of their kingdoms. He had wanted to live an honest life, and for the most part, he'd done it. He fought wicked pirates, who wanted to kill everyone in their paths and he gave their treasure to the peasants, that couldn't afford anything other than the shirts on their backs.

(He still felt the need to do more. Be more.)

"Captain." Miller said, effectively jarring him out of his thoughts.

He steadied the wheel. "What?"

Miller pointed out along the horizon, and finally his finger landed on a green piece of land, with a high castle scraping against the sky.

Bellamy grinned. "Classa." He breathed.

He dropped his eyes to the deck and noticed the crew staring at him, he hardened his features and began barking out orders.

"Hoist the sails! Line the riggings! Classa will never see us coming." He yanked the wheel hard to the left, and let out a whoop. The crew cried out their joy and set to work, hurrying to finish what he requested.

Raven appeared from below, slamming the trap door up and allowing it to bang against the deck. She hobbled up next to him, shoving a tin can with wires sticking from every direction in his face.

His jaw dropped in awe. "Is that it?"

She nodded. "The sleeping gas comes out of this hole here, knocking out everyone in range."

He held the wheel in one hand and the bomb in the other, examining the dark haired girls handiwork. He let a smile spread across his face, it was going to work wonders for them.

"Good work, Reyes. How many can you have built by Cambodia?" He handed the contraption back to her.

She grinned. "At least three dozen."

His smile was devil-like. "Like I said, they'll never see us coming."

\---

Graham was waiting for her at the church in the middle of town, she had wanted to ride her horse there, but Abby forbid it. ("You're in a _dress_ for heavens sake, Clarke. The carriage will take you with no problem.")

She couldn't help but roll her eyes as the conversation played through her head again. Abby could be confrontational on her best days, and Clarke had learned to respond with silence. She hated the repetitive fights her mother always wanted her to participate in.

She shook her head and composed herself, settling a smile on her features for Grahams benefit. Not that he would notice if anything was wrong anyway, but most of her joy came from pretending he was a better person.

He greeted her with a smile of his own, offering his arm. "You look lovely, Clarke."

She ducked her head in a pretend blush; she knew he was only interested in her cleavage. Her corset pinched uncomfortably, but it did amazing things to her breasts. Her slip was a deep maroon, and her dress was a sheer white. "Thank you, Graham. You look handsome, as well."

He smiled wide, but didn't thank her. He believed that women were made to simply compliment him, in more than just words. He could be an absolute pig when there weren't any witnesses.

They walked down the aisle together, just as they would the next day, his grip like an iron on her wrist, keeping her chained to his arm. She nearly laughed at how it seemed to be a metaphor for how the rest of her life was looking.

They said their vows but didn't kiss, that part would be saved for the real thing. Delightful.

There was food served in the well lit basement, but Clarke couldn't seem to find her appetite. Even the crab, her favourite dish, didn't seem to set her mouth to watering.

 _I've barely been out of the kingdom and already I'm being tied down to someone, someone I don't even love_. Were the thoughts running through her head, on repeat and ceaseless. She knew it was for the good of Classa, that Grahams people would help them in many ways. But she couldn't help but feel sorry for herself, and it was beginning to crush her.

\---

It'd be another sleep before his ship would arrive on Classian waters, and he was getting restless. The memories from his last visit were still vivid in his mind, making him skittish and quick to snap.

He'd been a new captain, barely even knew the ropes of commanding a ship. His crew was green as well, listening to any stupid order he gave. But the fault of the exploit was on his shoulders, and his alone.

He walked into the kingdom, naively unaware of how most common folk felt about pirates; how they wanted all of his kind hung, to be specific. He noticed the stares, the wide eyes and slack jaws, he chalked it up to his skin colour. He couldn't imagine it was actually much worse.

He was eyeing up some goods to bring back to his ship when a strong arm yanked him off the path. In seconds, a knife was at his throat and the stranger was whispering threats into his ear.

"Cooperate? And I might consider leaving you alive." The mans voice was deep, so much so it sent an unchecked shiver down his spine. He was then dragged behind the tents of the market place to a crumbling building, it smelt of sour and dead bodies alike. He squashed the intense need to cover his nose.

The man shoved him into a chair, and was quick to tie his hands to the armrests, rendering any attempt of escape nearly useless. Bellamy glared up at his masked face, wishing beyond relief that he had his sword tucked safe in its holder on his hip.

He bit back all the questions burning his throat, it was best if he didn't speak. If the man didn't see how fired up he was.

The man produced a long slender knife from somewhere in the overwhelming amount of fabric he adorned, running his finger along it.

In an instant, he had thrust the knife into the side of Bellamys leg, ripping a roar of pain from his lips. He dug his nails into the wood of the chair, breathing heavy.

His somewhat calm exterior broke. "What do you want from me?" He spat, restraining against the ropes.

His eyes shone. "Now that I have your attention, I'd like to ask a favor of you." He slowly removed the knife from his thigh, and he fought the urge to puke at the intense shocks of pain.

Bellamy glowered. "A favor? After you literally stabbed me in the leg? _Highly_ unlikely." He gritted out.

The man wiped his knife off on his glove, then neatly slid it back into its place amongst his robes. "Your leg will be fine, I will have left a scar, but nothing more." He folded his hands in front of him.

He scoffed at his attempt to sound as if he knew something Bellamy didn't. "Yeah, well, it's still going to hurt like a bitch for a while, so I'd really like to know why it happened."

The man nodded. "Why, of course I'll tell you. I need you to kill the king."

He choked, then couldn't help but let a laugh fill the room. "Kill the king? Are you insane? Oh my god, that's—"

The man had another knife pressing against his throat in a flash, his eyes were bright with anger. "Don't ever laugh at me again!"

Probably against his better judgement, he glared and kicked out at him, sending him sprawling across the room. While he was preoccupied, Bellamy stood, bent at the waist with the chair on his back. He rammed it against the brick wall, splintering it into pieces and causing his ropes to loosen. He rid himself of them and ran for the door, wrenching it open, he darted out into the street.

"I'll have your entire crew killed if you don't do as I ask!" The man yelled from the door, effectively freezing Bellamy in his tracks.

The man hobbled toward him, waggling a finger as he spoke. "Every. Last. One."

 _He's bluffing. He has to be. He doesn't even know who they are_.

The man pulled out another slender knife, twirling it between his fingers. "I'll start with the dark boy darning the buzz cut, then when he's screaming for me to end it, I'll leave him to bleed out in agony. But I'll finish with the brown skinned female, I'll wrap her pretty little pony tail around my palm and hold my knife against her neck—"

Bellamy let out a guttural growl. "Touch any one of my crew and I'll have your head on a spike."

He tsked. "Ah, no need for threats. Simply do as I ask and they'll be safe."

He ground his teeth. "The king will be dead in two days time."

The man clapped. "Excellent."

He'd headed for his ship lazily, he had been in no rush to inform the crew of what he'd gotten them into. But he'd had to tell them eventually, and rightfully, they were all against it.

He slammed his hands down on the table to silence their arguing. "It's either the kings life or yours. You can have your pick." He'd said, choosing to stare at the map on the table instead of their shocked faces.

After an eternity of stillness, they all begrudgingly agreed that they wanted to continue their breathing and they hatched a plan to kill the king.

They stretched themselves beyond their means to perfect the plan and make sure it would go off without a hitch.

It still failed, and the king lived while they were sentenced to death.

But in the middle of the night, some stranger sprung him free, and he made it safely to their ship and away from Classa in one piece.

The messenger pigeon came a few days later, it carried a letter that said Classa had decided instead of wasting supplies and men searching for them, they had simply banned _the Black Fleet_ from ever setting anchor in their harbor again.

He had obeyed their commandments for almost five years, but he was older, with a stronger crew and a better head set on his shoulders, he wouldn't be scared off any longer.

He steered the ship into the calm waters of Classa Bay, and he actually heard church bells.

He remembered hearing about Aliasances prince and the Classian princess getting hitched, and he couldn't have cared less at the time.

But now it served him a purpose as a fantastic distraction, and he couldn't be more grateful.

Lost in his thoughts, he almost missed the large mast of another pirate ship coming up along the horizon. He abandoned the wheel and grabbed his telescope, zoning in on their sails.

 _The Seas Whore_ , he thought with dread. They were the most ruthless, deadliest pirates that had ever set sail among these waters. He had never had an encounter with them before, had only heard the stories that turned his blood cold. They had never attempted to steal from him, and he had never even dreamt of doing the same to them.

He should have kept going, sailed right past Classa while it was distracted and hunted for his treasure.

He should have, but he didn't.

\---

She practiced the deep breathing exercise Wells had taught her moments ago, trying to calm her racing heart. It was her wedding day, and she couldn't be dreading it more.

Amelia pulled Clarkes hair into an intricate updo, even going as far as adding a few sparkles throughout the curls. Her dress had a white slip, and the bodice had elaborate flower stitching adoring the sheer material.

She felt beautiful, but she'd rather look like a bum on the street than do what was scheduled for today.

Wells came up behind her, squeezing both her shoulders in encouragement. "You're going to be fine. I'll be there the entire time."

She smiled, solid that in her knowledge that she could always count on Wells to be there for her. She reached up and clasped one of his hands clutching her shoulders. "Thank you. I know you will be."

He nodded once and left her to finish the details before she had to meet her father to walk down the aisle. She felt her heart hammer loudly in her chest, and she placed a hand over it.

Her mother appeared at the door, a tight smile spreading her mouth. "Ready to go?"

Clarke nodded, even though she wanted to jump out the nearest window instead. "Ready."

\---

Raven chased after him as he walked down the plank and onto the pier. "Bellamy, stop. We're home free! What do you think you're doing?"

He strutted down the dock, hoping there was confidence in his stride instead of the fear wrapping itself around his heart. He couldn't explain why he needed to be here, it was just a feeling. A deep, dark pull low in his belly, begging him to stay.

He stopped by a vendor that had wigs on display, picking up a blonde one, he paid the price that was owed and plopped it on his head. "There's a wedding in town, Reyes." He grinned. "You know how I love a wedding."

\---

Her father was waiting for her at the door that led to where the altar was, and he smiled widely when he saw her. He quickly wiped his eyes when they began to shine.

She touched his arm. "Aw, Dad, don't cry. I'm not _dying_."

He laughed in spite of his tears. "I know, sweetheart, it's just a big day."

She took his arm when he offered it, and they told the guards they were ready for the doors to be opened.

"All rise." The minister boomed.

The pupils were a deep brown, and complimented the blush coloured roses that were sprinkled along the ground. Bouquets of them draped from the ceiling, and every once in a while a few petals would float down amongst the guests heads.

It was beautiful, but it wasn't her dream. None of this was.

She took a—hopefully—cleansing breath as they walked toward Graham, who hadn't removed his eyes from her chest since she emerged from the doors.

 _Fucking pig_ , she thought in disgust.

She resisted the urge to spit on her adoring fiancé when her father handed her off to him.

\---

He could see _the Seas Whore_ docking from where he hid, in between the pier and the church. A nasty feeling had settled in his stomach, propelling him away from the pier and in the direction of the church.

Miller followed close behind him, Raven on his tail. They whispered back and forth about how stupid he was, and he threatened to feed both their tongues to the sharks if they didn't quit it. They were fairly quiet for the rest of the walk.

\---

"Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today..."

Clarke internally rolled her eyes, she couldn't stand large weddings. She really just wanted something intimate, she didn't need the whole world to know who she was marrying. As she looked out towards the crowd, there must have been at least three hundred, she knew she didn't even know half of their names.

Graham winked at her, and she swallowed the curse that almost escaped her lips.

She glanced to her right in time to see a freckled man scratch his head, and she noticed his head of blonde hair sway oddly. She squinted, then shook her head, turning back to her husband-to-be.

\---

His wig was terribly itchy, it's tendrils tickling the back of his neck and driving him insane. The princess kept glancing at him, and the third time she did, he smiled widely at her, and she jerked her head back to its proper position.

He kept the smile on his face, smug, and sat back against his pupil.

Some instinct in him made him glance at the ceiling, and his stomach lurched in panic.

A pirate from _the Seas Whore_ crawled along the wooden planks that held the roof together, his eye steady on the princess.

Bellamy glanced between the two, one completely oblivious, the other loading a pistol.

The pirate cocked the gun— _how am I the only one hearing this?_ —and aimed right for the princess' head.

Bellamy was off his pupil in a split second, diving for the princess. The gun went off, and he knocked the girl off her feet, she screeched and they rolled into the arch. It fell backwards into the cake, which tumbled to the ground, causing an ear splitting crash.

She ended up on top of him, her hair spilling from its braids. He grinned as she huffed, and got to her feet. He stood too, and nearly laughed. Chaos had broke out among the crowd, there were more pirates swarming, knocking over decorations and probably highly priced vases of flowers.

One of the pirates spotted them and yelled something to the rest in a different language; they all abandoned their destruction to start their path towards the princess.

Bellamy grabbed her hand and ran for the door, but she fought him. "What are you doing? Let go of me!"

He stopped short, bringing his face inches from her so his words would have an impact. "Those pirates? Are trying to kill you. Me? I'm trying to save your life. It's your choice who you stay with." He pitched his voice low, hoping it would show how serious he was.

"Where would you take me?" She said, eyes steady and actually calm.

His eyes darted to behind them as more and more pirates were climbing over the chairs they had knocked over, coming closer and closer. Bellamy nearly face palmed, how many more questions could she have? "I'd love to answer, but time is of the essence."

Her eyes glanced at his mouth for half a breath, and she flared her nostrils. "Fine, lets go." She tightened her grip on his hand and jerked her head in the direction of the door.

He spared one second to smile smugly at her—pulling a scowl from her, just like he hoped—and then he grabbed the sleeping gas grenade from his pocket. He threw it into the room, and tugged her out the door.

She was lagging, between the weight of the dress and the height of her shoes, they would never get ahead. He hoped Raven and Miller had made it out ok.

He yanked her behind a building, and looked at her feet. "Take off your shoes."

She looked at him as if he had three heads. "Why would I do that?"

He huffed and stooped down to take them off himself, she squeaked and tried to take her foot back, but he held fast and pried it off her foot.

He slammed it down onto the ground to make a point, and then worked on getting the other one off as he spoke. "You're slowing us down in these monstrous things—"

She gasped, offended. "They are not _monstrous_."

"—and I will not be taken down by a piece of leather dipped in paint." He stood, hands on his hips. "So, lets go." He began to turn away but her sputter stopped him.

She wasn't following. "I am _not_ going to run without my shoes on."

He clenched his jaw, and turned back, frustration boiling his blood. "Then what do you suggest we do, princess? If you have a better plan, please, elaborate."

The grin that spread across her face made him instantly regret his previous words.

\---

He darted around a booth, and she nearly lost her grip completely on his shoulders. She clutched tighter, huffing. "Would you be careful? You're carrying precious cargo."

She could just tell he was rolling his eyes. "Well, could you move so I can see this precious cargo you speak of?" He wasn't even breathless, and he was running faster than she could with twice as much weight.

She glowered. "I would hit you, but I don't want to sway your focus, I'm already slipping enough as it is."

He actually laughed. "Princess, I can take a whole lot more than a royal hit."

She blew her hair out of her face, and he tightened his grip on her thighs as he shot past the last vendor, bringing the pier into view.

She leaned back, hoping to slow him down, unsuccessfully. "Why are we heading towards the ships?"

He craned his neck to smirk at her, causing his wig to flip up at the front, it caught the wind and took off towards the market.

She barely contained her gasp.

He was absolutely gorgeous without the blonde hair getting in his eyes. His natural hair was curly and dark, and she had the sudden urge to tun her fingers through it. Simply to test her theory of its softness, obviously.

He was still smirking at her, so she pulled herself away from the dangerous thoughts and forcibly turned his head forward. "Look where you're going, knucklehead."

He snorted. "As you wish, highness."

He basically dropped her onto the dock when they arrived, and she glared at his back after she righted her footing. He paid no attention, strutting down the rows of boats with seemingly no care in the world.

She stormed after him. "What are we doing here?"

"Looking for my—"

She didn't hear the rest of his words, because suddenly there was a splitting pain in the back of her head, and she fell to the ground.

\---

Bellamy tsked. "Miller, did your mother never tell you that it's wrong to hit women?"

Raven smacked Miller on the arm and rolled her eyes at Bellamy, then climbed onto the ship.

He shook his head as he crouched to check her pulse, when he found it beating strong, he pulled her boneless form to its feet. He carried her bridal style onto _the Black Fleet_ , ducking under deck to lay her on a cot to rest.

Miller hit his arm when he emerged again. "What the fuck did you bring her here for?"

Bellamy glared until he moved out of the way, and then stalked up to his favourite position; the wheel.

He cleared his throat to silence the crew, and they all turned towards him. "There will be no more waiting for our treasure, we leave for Arkadias in an hour. We will no longer let other scurvy infected lads demand our attention! Are we all agreed?"

The crew howled and set to getting the ship ready for sail.

"Ah, ah. One more thing." He called, summoning their attention back to him.

He slowly walked in front of the wheel, enjoying how every eye stayed trained on him. He fingered the blade of the knife he kept hidden in his pocket. "If anyone lays a hand on the princess, they will have to answer to me."

The crew glanced among themselves, then quickly nodded and set back to work.

He went back to the wheel and shouted more orders, something in him hoping they'd be long gone before a certain someone came to.

\---

Her head felt like a gaping hole had been carved into it. She groaned and put a hand to her forehead, she was burning up. Her stomach lurched, and she rolled off the bed to find a toilet.

She stopped dead when she saw her surroundings.

Turning in a circle, she saw a few other tiny beds and medical supplies. She nearly screeched when the floor began to sway beneath her, and she grappled for purchase against her bed.

"Scared, princess?"

She jumped again when she saw her rescuer— _kidnapper?_ —standing in the doorway with his arms crossed. He had the smug smile he often wore secured on his face, and she felt her blood boil at just the sight of it.

She leaned harder against the bed, trying to put as much distance between them as possible. "Who are you?"

He broke into a grin, and walked along the edge of the room, tapping bottles and jars with his fingertips as he went along. He stopped when there was only a foot of space between them, and she was surprised that she wasn't afraid of what he might do next.

He trained his eyes on hers, and she found herself not able to look away. She grew irritated when he still didn't speak. "I asked, _who are you_?" She gritted out.

He let his hand settle over the hilt of his sword, tucked safely along his waist band. He cocked a challenging eyebrow.

She rolled her eyes and laid down on her bed. "I feel very sick, so if you're not going to answer me, please leave."

He smiled again and sat down at the end of the cot. "I'll tell you exactly who I am, princess." He ticked off the items as if he were going through a list. "I enjoy sailing, I have a sister, my sword has gutted over a hundred men, and I'm an _excellent_ dancer."

She glared, her mothers voice pestered her about frown lines, and she glared harder. "You know that's not what I meant."

He shrugged, and then stood. "Maybe next time you'll be a little more specific when making demands."

He headed for the stairs, and she needed to say something, needed to get a different reaction from him other than a fleeting smirk. She gritted her teeth. "He'll come for me, you know. And when he does, you'll regret being so retched."

She saw something flash behind his eyes—anger?—but it was gone again before she could truly decipher it. His smirk returned, and he cocked a hip. "Are you talking about your dearest love? If he does decide to come after us, he'll be your deadest love." She couldn't wrap her head around how he could captivate her with the most appalling words.

She glared. "He's not my dearest love." She looked to the floor. "He's not my dearest anything."

He raised his eyebrows, clearly intrigued. "Really? And yet you still agreed to marry him?"

She crossed her arms. "It's what was best for the kingdom."

He laughed, but it was mocking. "Oh, aren't we selfless." He shook his head, still chuckling. "If you really cared what was best for your kingdom, you wouldn't allow that dreadful bastard anywhere near it."

Her nostrils flared as she watched his retreating back. "Wait!"

He stopped and turned back, hands placed on his hips. "Yes?"

She clasped her hands in her lap. "Where are we?"

He bared his teeth in a grin. "Why, princess, we're on a ship."

She let out a growl, but he was already above deck before she could find something to heave at him.

\---

A nice brown skinned girl with a peg leg called Raven brought her food twice a day. She was friendly, offering up stories about the crew and telling jokes nearly every other sentence.

Clarke found out that she was aboard _The Black Fleet_ , a dangerous pirate ship with even more dangerous people aboard it.

"But don't worry, Captain specifically said that if anyone touched you they'd be in deep seagull shit." Raven said, laughing into her biscuit.

She felt her stomach flip at that, and it certainly wasn't from the rock of the ship. "What does he want with me?"

Raven shook her head. "Nothing, I don't think. He's got this complex about him, thinks he's the worst person in the world or something. Believes he needs to constantly being repaying for—honestly, I don't even know what." She shook her head again. "So he saved your life and now he's just keeping you safe. The whores are still after you, you realize."

She furrowed her brow. "The whores?"

Raven sighed. "Do keep up, would you? The pirates at the church, their ship is called _the Seas Whore_ , so they're known as the whores."

She snorted. "That's unfortunate for them." She paused. "Why are they after me?"

The other girl shrugged. "My guess is someone sent them, to start a war or some shit like that. Kill the princess, pin it on an enemy, you've got yourself a domino effect."

Clarkes jaw was slack. "That's insane! My parents would never declare war on—"

"Even if they thought it was Aliasance who killed you?" Raven cocked a brow.

Clarke sat back, still half disbelieving. "I guess I really don't know what they'd do."

Raven nodded, in a way that said she knew Clarke would see it her way. She stood, stretching, then looked over Clarkes fraying dress.

She scrunched up her nose. "We need to get you out of that, immediately."

She looked down at herself, it was one of the nicest things Jake had ever had made for her. She had grown the slightest bit attached.

Raven sighed after realizing Clarkes obvious distain of the thought of taking it off. "Listen, you can keep it on if you'd like, but all it does is separate you more from the rest of us on this ship."

Clarke played with the hem, then decided if she was going to be held here, she might as well look the part. "Do you have clothes that I can put on?" She hated how shy her voice sounded.

Raven nodded, and held out her hand. Clarke took it and they trotted up the stairs to Ravens cabin.

\---

He saw them emerge from the door that led below, and he tried to pay it no mind. He didn't need the princess distracting him anymore than she already was. He didn't even know her name for seas sake and she still occupied more than half of his thoughts.

He tried to focus on the sea, the ocean air, the thrill of a new adventure. He could almost sense Arkadias far out in the distance, beckoning to him.

But eventually the thought of the whores catching up to him filled his mind and fear clutched his heart. He didn't understand why he felt the need to protect the princess so passionately—that was a lie. He knew right well why he felt so indebted to her, but he didn't want to think abut it. The point was, he wasn't going to let any harm come to her.

He spotted Raven leading her around the deck in stunning new attire, and he restrained himself from letting his jaw drop.

It was quite obvious how beautiful she was, long blonde hair and piercing blue eyes that had more fire than ice laying beneath them. He found himself even more drawn to her when she was wearing the clothes his crew often wore. Her shirt was red and billowing, giving him a glimpse of her breasts every now and again, her pants were black and skin tight, showing off her curvy hips well, Raven must have redone the princess' hair too, because it blew out behind her when the wind picked up. He forced himself to not look awe-struck when Raven tugged her over to say hello.

She smiled proudly. "Captain, the new _and_ improved princess."

The princess blushed. "Raven, you know that's not my name, right?" She lowered her voice to speak again, but he heard none the less. "And it's not like he cares what I look like, anyhow."

Raven ignored the second bit and sighed. "May I introduce, _Clarke_ of Classa." She amended.

 _Clarke_. He stopped himself from speaking the word out loud, afraid of how much he'd like it. Instead, he gave her a thorough look over, making her squirm under his gaze.

He rested his hand over the hilt of his sword, a gesture he often used when he was trying to intimidate someone. Normally, it worked. But Clarke simply held her head higher when he did it.

"You've done a fine job, Reyes. Take her and introduce her to the rest of the crew, then give her a duty." He looked back over the waters, clearly dismissing them.

Clarke stayed, like he somehow sensed she would. Her face was sour. " _Duty?_ Excuse me? You've kidnapped me from my home—"

He held up a finger. "Kindly saved your life, which you still haven't thanked me for."

She ignored his correction. "—haven't even had the decency to tell me where I am or where we're headed, and now you expect me to work for you? Have you walked the plank one too many times or are you just naturally insane?" She crossed her arms in front of her heaving chest, nostrils flared.

He found his own chest rising rapidly as well, no one dared to ever second guess his decisions. And it wasn't about to start now.

He planted himself directly in front of her, and he caught her nervous swallow. His pitched his voice low. "You seem to forget who saved your life only days ago. Do you think the whores would have treated you as kindly as I have? I've allowed you to speak out against me for so long because I knew that you were scared, but now I've told everyone in the crew to not dare touch you, I've given you food and a comfortable bed, and yet you still show no appreciation. This is my ship, and you answer to me. Got it, princess?" He spit out the last word as if it was poison.

She swallowed again, and ducked her head as to not meet his steely gaze. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make it seem like I'm not grateful. I am, it's just been—"

He stepped back, and took the wheel once more. "I don't need excuses or an apology, show me how sorry you are by doing what needs to be done around here and we won't have a problem."

He wasn't pleased at how cold he sounded, as if it didn't hurt him to see her struggle not to cry. But he was captain, and he wouldn't be taken for a weakling.

After a few moments, she held her chin high again. "It won't happen again." Her voice didn't wobble.

He nodded. "See to it that it doesn't. Reyes? My previous instructions."

She grabbed Clarkes arm, then gave him a mock salute. "Aye, aye."

\---

Her blood had been boiling only moments before, but now it ran cold in her veins. She had been acting like some pompous royal who thought the people the people around her didn't deserve to be even in the same room as her. She had just felt as if she needed to prove herself, prove she wasn't afraid.

Clearly, it hadn't gone well. Both because Captain had seen straight through her act and he called her out on her fear. She felt lousy and sick, and it was no longer from the choppy waves.

Raven handed her a mop and bucket, and said that it didn't have to be shining, just clean.

She set to work swabbing the deck and by the time she was finished, the wooden boards were absolutely sparkling. She leaned on her mop, tired but proud.

Captain walked by while she was resting and looked over her work, he grunted and kept on walking. She took it as a compliment.

They laid anchor at a tiny little island they found, something about needing their rest for Old Man Shivers. (She had no idea what that meant.)

She bunked with Raven now that, in her words, her sea legs were on.

She found herself staring at Ravens false leg while she was tidying up the room. How did it happen? Was it an accident or a punishment?

All these questions were whirling around in her head so fast that she didn't notice Raven had caught her staring. She sat back and waved her hand in a go on gesture. "Go ahead, ask me about it."

Clarke quickly shook her head. "I didn't mean to—"

Raven laughed and shook her head. "You know, for a princess, you're terrible at being diplomatic, or even smooth."

Clarke crossed her arms, slightly defensive. "I wasn't really allowed to travel, ever since the attempted murder of my father." She stared at the floor.

Raven seemed to perk up at that. "Really? When did that happen?"

Clarke shrugged and scooted back until her back was against the wall. "About five years ago, I was only fifteen."

Raven tsked. "That's awful. Do you know who did it?"

She shook her head, then paused. "Well, we know they were pirates. But they weren't well known, so we don't really know who they were. They escaped and haven't returned since, so, it's probably for the better." Why was she so interested in this?

Raven sighed. "That's still too bad, do you know why they tried it?"

Clarke shook her head again. "No idea, but I hope they don't have the urge to do it again."

Raven nodded and they sat in silence for a few moments, before Clarkes eyes wandered back to her leg.

She smiled. "So? You gonna tell me how you got that now?"

Raven grinned, too. "Shark attack. I was swimming off the coast—just after I joined _the Black Fleet_ —and it came at me so fast I didn't have time to think. It took my leg clean off, but before it could get the rest of me, Luna took her sword and cut straight through the thing."

Clarke remembered Luna, she was the fisherman of the crew and she was lovely. Her curly hair sat in a bun atop her head and she smiled kindly at Clarke when Raven introduced them. She had had a sneaking suspicion that something was between Raven and Luna, and now the story she had just heard confirmed it.

But she didn't feel she was close enough with Raven to ask about it, so she changed into the nightgown he had laid out at the end of her bed, and went to sleep.

Raven jerked her awake many hours later, and Clarke didn't need anything but her scared eyes to know to follow her immediately.

They rushed into a room with wires and contraptions covering nearly every surface, and Raven quickly locked the door behind them.

Clarke was breathing hard, both from fear and exertion, with a tad of adrenaline pumping through her veins.

She put her hands on her hips. "What the hell is going on?"

Raven leaned against the door, we breathing heavy as well. "Our ship is under attack."

She couldn't help but gasp, was it the whores? Coming to finish her off? "Because of me?"

Raven winced. "Technically, yes. But it was our choice to bring you with us. We were prepared for this."

Clarke began to pace, despite the tiny space. "It wasn't your choice, Captain brought me here. It was him who—"

She was given a sharp look. "Don't even think about putting this on Cap', he saved your life and—"

Clarke held up her hands in mock surrender. "I was only going to say—" Except she wasn't given time to explain, because soon the door was being knocked down and Raven was being held with a knife to her throat.

Clarke eyed up the couple of men that were blocking the door, she knew she could take them if only she had a gun. She put her hands up, slowly, as not to scare them. "It's not her you want, it's me."

The creep tucked Raven closer against his chest and nosed her ear, making her squirm. "I'm sure we could have some fun with the both of you."

She felt her temper start to flare, and she tramped it down; she needed to stay calm. "Let her go, and I'll come willingly."

They seemed to consider, and they nodded at each other before roughly letting Raven fall to the floor.

She made a choking sound in her throat, and gave Raven a sympathetic look. The pirate reached for her arm, but she held back.

If she went with them, they might simply come back and kill everyone on this ship just for the hell of it. She had to be sure that no harm would come to the rest of the crew.

_Maybe next time you'll be a little more specific when making demands._

She backed up against the table. "Wait, wait." He looked at her warily, and waited for her to speak again. "I'll only come willingly if you swear you'll never attack this ship or any of its crew members again." She swallowed. "That includes the captain."

The pirate rolled his eyes and yanked on her arm, pulling her swiftly out the door. "You have my word, whatever that's worth."

\---

He awoke to the sound of gunfire and shouting, and he was out of the door tugging on his second boot in seconds. What he saw made his whole body freeze.

The whores had caught up to them, and were very close to overtaking his ship. Trying not to feel overwhelmed, he unsheathed his sword and took out the two pirates that had been climbing up the side.

He scanned his eyes over the mass of bodies for Miller, and found him in a tangle with three pirates.

Bellamy jabbed his sword into one of their backs, then whirled in a circle and sliced the second ones throat. Miller, finally relieved of the pressure of fighting three people, killed the last one with ease.

More enemies ascended upon them in seconds, barely giving them time to breathe between kills. Thankfully, it seemed that the whores had no real strategy—despite the blood chilling stories—and all they really did was jab sloppily at whatever they were attacking. Bellamy had to wonder how they had become the most fearsome crew in all of Samania.

In the midst of the chaos, his mind reminded him of who else he was protecting.

He looked at Miller, and nearly had to shout over the roar of the sea and the slew of pirates. "Where's Clarke?"

Miller shook his head. "I haven't seen her, she must be with Raven."

Even though, rationally, he knew Raven would do her absolute best to keep Clarke safe, he couldn't help but let doubt creep into his mind. He didn't like not knowing exactly what was happening with his crew.

He threw the clumsy pirate he'd been fighting off of him, and stabbed him straight through the heart. He ducked anymore pirates raging for a fight and went to Ravens favourite hiding spot.

There was a small room below deck that held all of Ravens successful inventions, and that was the place that made her feel the safest. He couldn't think of anywhere else she would take Clarke.

He nearly threw himself down the stairs in an effort to arrive sooner and then swung open the door. He found Raven, holding a rag to a deep gash in her leg while she sat sprawled on the floor.

He stooped to her level, mind racing with possibilities of what could have went on. He took over applying pressure to the wound, and swallowed. "What happened?"

Raven winced. "We were safe for a while, and then they found us. It all happened so fast, one second I was guarding the door, the next I had a knife to my throat. Clarke saved me, and the rest of the crew."

He furrowed his brow. "And how in the world did she manage that?"

She leaned her head against the wall, sweat breaking out on her upper lip. "You must have just missed them, she said she'd come willingly as long as they promised to never harm any of us again."

His heart thundered in his chest, he should have taught her to never trust the word of a pirate. He helped Raven to stand, and they hobbled up to the top deck.

He breathed in awe. "What the fuck."

To his amazement, the whores were dispersing—quite rapidly. He scanned the crowd for a certain blonde head, and his already sinking gut plummeted when he caught her being led underneath the other ship. He rushed to the side of the ship, and began calling out to her despite his better judgement.

He waved his arms. "Clarke! Clarke!"

Her head snapped up and her eyes met his, they were shiny with tears. He didn't know what to say, so he hoped his eyes would portray what he wanted her to know; he was coming after her.

Her eyes went wide, as if she knew exactly what he was thinking, and she began to shake her head hastily. She opened her mouth, but she was shoved below deck before any words could leave her lips.

He turned away from the scene and held his breath, staring at the floor boards as a plan came together in his mind. He glanced up at his crew, who were simply staring, waiting to be given orders, and he breathed in.

He turned to Raven. "Is _Crewless_ ready?"

She shrugged. "It could use a few more adjustments but ... it's good enough."

He stalked up to where the first ever motor boat was hidden, underneath the wheel in a secret compartment that only he and Raven knew about.

It was small, only enough room for one or two people maximum, hence the name. But there was something extra special about _Crewless_.

She could fly.

\---

The whores manhandled her into a chair and bound her to it, grinning as she tugged uselessly against the ropes. She nearly screamed in frustration. She had had it up to here with pirates holding her hostage.

She seethed. "They'll come to rescue me, you know. They're probably on their way right now."

A tall man with blonde hair and a handlebar mustache chuckled. "Bellamy and his ragtag group of misfits?" He laughed again, not even recognizing her somewhat gaping mouth at having learned Bellamys name. "If he couldn't save you once, what makes you think he'll be willing to risk his neck to do it again?"

She opened her mouth to respond, but she didn't know what to say. She just—knew. Maybe it was the way he looked at the people he cared about when he was too caught up in the moment to remember to put on his emotionless mask. Maybe it was the way he saved her without hesitation at the church, and continued to keep her safe for as long as he could. Or maybe it was the look he gave her before she was brought onto this appalling ship, he looked so determined and unwavering. She felt it deep in her bones, in her bloodstream; he was coming after her.

Growing impatient with her silence, Mustache growled and pulled out a slender knife. He lunged forward and gave her a deep cut in her forearm. The pain was searing, making her vision go black at the edges. She gritted her teeth to keep her scream bottled up, and she glowered at him.

He gave a satisfied smirk and marched up the stairs.

They left one in charge of guarding her, as if she could actually _go_ anywhere.

The pirate, Gus, stared at her outright. He looked harmless, with his large belly and scruffy beard, but all the most horrible people always seemed that way. She gave him the dirtiest look she could muster, and he finally adverted his eyes.

After what felt like days in silence, she asked the question that had been burning her throat. "Where are you taking me? What do you want with me?"

He looked up in surprise, as if he couldn't believe she was talking to him. "I dunno, I'm usually a powder monkey. I clean guns, they don't discuss plans with me."

She bit her lip to contain her smirk, he was laying a lovely trap for himself. And she would give him just the gentlest of pushes right into it. She furrowed her brows. "Well that doesn't seem fair, does it? You seem like a mighty fine pirate, you deserve to be included in the plans."

He shrugged. "I guess. It's really not a big deal. But it does get a little irksome when they're up in the special room with the special toys talking about special plans."

She shook her head vigorously. "Of course its a big deal! You should be the one up in the special room with the special gear. And you know what?" She gave her brightest smile.

He returned it, and hers almost faltered when she saw his gums were black and toothless. "What?"

She focused on his eyes. "You should be the one making the plans, too. They shouldn't treat you like some ignorant oaf!"

He nodded, eyebrows creased. "Yeah! That's right they shouldn't!"

She wiggled her hands, obscured from his view behind her back, and she felt the ropes get the slightest bit looser. "You deserve to be treated with dignity! And respect!"

He stood from his chair, clearly a little fired up by the whole thing. "I deserve to be up there just as much as they do. I've fought just as hard as them, they're not special. I am Gus of Gamcrouph for seas sake and I will not be taken for a fool! I—"

He fell to the ground with a thump, and she stood over him, frying pan in hand. "That's right, you're no fool, Gus—" She patted him down for weapons, and took a small hunting knife out of his front pocket. "—just very, very gullible."

She pulled her scarf over her head to hide her face and wrapped a bandage around her arm. Carefully climbing the stairs, she made her way to the surface, pausing every few seconds to check for footfalls.

She reached the top of the staircase just in time to see a boat land gently in the water beside the ship—

_Woah, wait. Land?_

Forgetting the need to stay hidden, she rushed to the side of the ship with most of the other crew members and stared in complete and utter awe.

 _Bellamy_. He was there, he'd come to save her. He hadn't abandoned her or left her. He'd come after her. She nearly shouted with joy.

The pirate beside her turned to her, and widened his eyes in recognition. "What are you doing up—"

She inhaled sharply and ducked his attempt to grab her arm. She dodged right, then left, but then the other pirates around them started to notice she was there too. They shouted various things, some saying to take out Bellamy, others shouting orders to take her down below again.

Bellamy waved his hands from the boat. "Clarke! Clarke, jump!" He made a come here gesture, and she glanced at the pirates swarming her.

She inhaled, and faked left, then broke off to the right. She pushed off with all her power she could possibly summon and—

She was airborne. It seemed to happen in slow motion—hands grappling for her, bullets whizzing past her ears—then she was diving into the water and swimming as fast as she could towards safety.

Bellamy held out his hand for her and she took it. He hauled her into the boat and when she sat up, coughing water, he gave her a grin.

At her irritated look, he laughed. "That's twice I've saved your life now, princess. I'll take that thanks now."

She wrapped her arms around herself, grumbling, "I didn't know we were keeping count."

He pressed a few buttons, and her body flew into the sky while her stomach stayed anchored to the water. She felt the very urgent need to throw up.

He laughed again. "Don't worry, you'll get used to it."

She did _not_ find it funny.

The small boat was cute, in baby cougar kind of way—nice to look at, but you'd never want to go near it. It had two benches for passengers, and a plush seat the driver that sat a little taller than the rest. It had retractable canvas wings that resembled something of a large bird, and a large sail sprouted out of the middle. It's mast was thin and assumably lightweight; everything seemed to be made out of wood. But she couldn't figure out how it was light enough to be able to get into the air, and stay there.

After a few minutes in the air with the wind ripping at her clothes and hair, she felt bitterly cold. Her damp clothes clung to her body, allowing the wind to surge straight through them. Her teeth were beginning to chatter.

He gave her a wary look. "Are you alright? You've gone deathly pale."

She nodded, and rubbed her hands up and down her arm to help kickstart her circulation. "I'm fine, just cold."

He seemed to be in thought for a moment, before he reached around behind him, keeping one hand on the steering wheel. He dug around for a few minutes—grumbling about needing a better organization system—before producing a thick wool blanket and tossing it to her.

She hastily wrapped it around he shoulders, sighing as it's warmth sank into her. "Thank you."

He nodded. "No problem."

She sat up a little straighter. "Not just for the blanket." She clarified.

He gave her a lazy smile. "I figured."

She smiled back, and stared out over the sea. It was beautiful from up here, the slowly setting sun casting rays of gold across the glittering waters. She winced when she felt a throb of pain in her arm, and she hoped he wouldn't notice. (Later she'd think it strange to hope such a thing.)

\---

He landed _Crewless_ softly in water beside his ship, doing his best to cover his laugh when he looked at Clarke to see her gripping the sides of the boat in fear. She caught him looking and immediately let go, glaring at him when he snorted.

She stood, waving happily at the crew leaning over the side. They shouted her name and waved, just as enthusiastic about seeing her as it seemed she was about them.

He stood too, and put his hand to the small of her back. He told himself he imagined her shiver. "They like you." It wasn't a question.

She gave him a look. "Hardly, I just make good soup."

He laughed, and helped her step onto the platform that had been lowered from the ship. He got on right after her, and the platform began to rise.

She looked over the side once, and she immediately screwed her eyes shut. "Who makes these contraptions?" She muttered.

He grinned. "Raven and I."

She cracked one eye open, and raised her eyebrows. "Really?"

He nodded, looking out over the sea. They were five days away from Arkadias, he could practically feel the gold spilling between his fingers.

Clarke scraped the boards with the toe of her boot. "So are you and her...?"

It was his turn to give her an incredulous look. "Certainly not."

She smiled. "Someone else, then?"

He shook his head, wondering why this ride was taking so long. "There was—once—a long time ago. But she's gone." He saw her about to say she was sorry, so he hurried to fill the silence. "You? I mean, other than Graham."

She nodded. "A long time ago. I haven't seen her in a long time."

 _Her?_ He cleared his throat. "So, you like girls, but they were putting you in an arranged marriage with a man?" He couldn't imagine how anyone could twist that scenario into something sensible.

She smiled. "I like both—men and women—so they weren't putting me into something I would be miserable in." She seemed to consider her last words, then cocked her head. "Well, at least not for those reasons."

He opened his mouth, but then they were being moved over the top of the ship and landing a little roughly on the deck. " _Oomf_." He growled. "Guys, come on, I could have done that better with one hand cut off."

He stepped off the platform, forcing himself not to waggle his finger at the three men holding the rope. He flicked his hand and they stepped away from the rope, and he demonstrated how to lower it with care. _Goddamn amateurs._

When they finally nodded in understanding, he sighed and dismissed them. He rubbed a hand over his face, exasperated.

Someone touched his arm, and he turned to address them. He was surprised to see Clarke standing there, a determined look stuck on her face. He smirked. "Yes?"

She took a deep breath. "Half your men are bleeding out below deck because of the whores, are you planning on doing something about that?" She crossed her arms.

The smirk disappeared from his face, and he stepped so close that they were nearly nose to nose. "Are you suggesting that I'm just abandoning them to die? We don't have a doctor on board, but they're getting the best we can do."

She glared. "I wasn't _suggesting_ that at all. I was just—" She huffed. "—I want to help."

He leaned back, crossing his arms. "And what would you do for them?"

She swallowed. "I was practicing for a nurse certificate behind my parents back, I know how to stitch a wound and properly dose medicine. I can help."

He paused, appearing to be considering it, but he was sure as the deeps not going to turn her down. His men hadn't been getting the proper treatment, and here was an opportunity screaming in his ear.

He nodded. "We'll supply you with whatever you need. And I want sufficient updates on how they're all doing. Understood?"

She nodded, standing up a little straighter. "Understood."

He gave her one nod, signaling her dismissal, and she turned and darted off below deck.

Raven appeared by his side. "When are you going to tell her?"

He grazed his hand over the hilt of his sword, walking to the edge of the ship. "There's nothing to tell."

She gave him a look. "Bellamy—"

His look was sharp. "That's Captain to you. And I already said, there's nothing to tell. We're going to get our treasure, and then take her back to Classa where she'll rule and never think about us again." _Never think about me again._

He waited a beat before turning back to the waters, he was very done with this conversation.

But Raven persisted. "And what if that doesn't happen? What if she decides she doesn't want to rule?"

His laugh was humorless. "That won't happen."

She pushed more. "But what if it does?"

He sighed, ducking his head for a moment to think. After a moment, he lifted his head and turned to her fully. "You can't live your life by what if, Reyes. I used to be able to count on you to know that." He pursed his lips and stalked away, he needed a large cup of rum and a nap.

\---

He couldn't sleep. Raven had stirred up his thoughts too much to even be able to lay down; he stood, pacing in his cabin like a trapped animal.

He groaned. "Fuck it."

He swung open his door and tried his best not to storm to Ravens cabin. When he reached it, he pulled open the door soundlessly. He quietly went to the side of Clarkes bed, and gently shook her awake.

She blinked up at him, then smiled. "What are you doing here?" She whispered.

He smirked and grabbed her hand, pulling her into a sitting position. "Get some clothes on. I want to show you something."

She furrowed her brow, but obliged. He stepped outside as she changed and when she emerged, he took her hand again, leading her to the side of the ship.

She looked up at the star filled sky, then back at him. "What are we doing?"

He stopped. "You'll see."

In one swift motion, he pulled his shirt over his head, and smirked at her gaping mouth. She snapped her eyes in the opposite direction of his chest and huffed. "What the fuck are you doing?"

He shimmied out of his pants as well, leaving only his boxers clinging his his thighs. He put his hands on his hips, and certainly didn't miss when her eyes wandered lower than his stomach. He grinned and hopped onto the edge of the ship, towering above her. Her hands flew to her mouth in a gasp. "Bellamy, you're going to get yourself killed!"

He laughed, not noticing that it wasn't strange hearing his name come from her lips. "By going for a swim? I haven't eaten for at _least_ half an hour."

She clung to the side of the ship, waving her hand at him. " _Bellamy_ —"

But she didn't finish her sentence, because then he let himself fall into a dive position, and he was shooting into the water. It swallowed him, and it was surprisingly warm. He stayed below surface for a moment, before allowing his head to break through.

He couldn't stop the smile that nearly hurt his face, he pointed it straight at Clarke, who was smiling somewhat begrudgingly.

He let his legs float to the surface, laying on his back. He called up to her, "You coming, princess?"

She hesitated for half a second before sighing and reaching for the hem of her shirt. "I cannot believe I'm doing this."

She slipped her shirt over her head, and he quickly averted his eyes when he got a glimpse of her breasts nearly spilling out of her bra. She stepped out of her pants and took a deep breath, she looked both ways—which he snorted at—before climbing up onto the edge of the ship.

He splashed the water excitedly. "Come on, lets go!"

She flipped him off, breathed in and—

She sailed off the side of the ship, fingers and toes pointed in what he thought of as perfect form. He whooped when she hit the water; she didn't surface for a moment, and when she did, she was right in front of him.

Her smile was blazing, even though her teeth were chattering. He grinned, and placed a finger under her chin to stop its stuttering. "What's this all about?"

Her smile didn't falter as she said, "I—It's c—cold, you d—dick."

He laughed and reached for her hand under the water, tugging her towards the island they had anchored next to. It was mostly rocks and caves, but it had secrets hidden within its crevices.

Secrets that something inside him wanted to show her.

They swam in silence, her clicking teeth the only noise. He hadn't let go of her hand.

He reached the rocky bay first, and he pushed himself up onto the shore. He breathed in the beautifully fragranced air, then turned to help Clarke, who kept slipping on the slime covered rocks.

He grabbed her hand, and yanked her up, but he misjudged the strength of his pull and ended up catapulting her into his bare chest. She let out an _oomf_ , then flushed scarlet red before pulling away.

He turned away to hide his grin, and began walking into the nearest cave.

She gasped from behind him. "What is this place?" Her voice was completely breathless.

He sighed contently. "The Caves of Dreams." It was a little cheesy, but it wasn't like he made it up.

She turned around in a circle, drinking in the wonder surrounding her. The walls were covered in glowing rubies, but they glowed in heat. Even the floor was coated in them, warming your feet as you walked across.

He pointed out a large stone sitting at the corner, and she happily walked over to sit on it. She let out a happy sigh, letting the warmth seep into her.

After a few minutes, he rolled his eyes and hauled her up. She whined, clearly not agreeing with his actions. "Come on, there's way more where this came from."

He basically had to drag her out of the warm space, and he led her into a cave with floors so slick they had to crawl on their hands and knees. Clarke—being in an unfortunate playful mood—kept kicking his hands out from under him.

After the third time, he was growing grouchy. When she went for a fourth, he grabbed her foot so she slid onto her back. He pounced onto her before she could slither away, securing her hips to the ground by straddling them. Her eyes were wide in surprise.

He smirked. "Who do you think has more experience fighting, princess?"

A sly smile crossed her face, and in a flash she had him pinned against the ground with her on top. She laughed at his obviously gaping face. "You may have more experience fighting, but I clearly have more experience in the bedroom."

He couldn't quite make his mouth work, couldn't make any of his limbs move as she crawled off him and began wriggling the rest of the way across the floor once again. He shook himself— _you're a pirate, goddamn it, get it together—_ and slid after her.

The next cave was glittering, so bright he could hardly look straight at it. Her mouth was gaping at the blue diamonds, caused by boron, and he agreed.

The diamonds grew in such a way that it didn't hurt to walk on them, and he stepped forward, leading them both into a small pool in the middle of the cave. It only came up to their knees, but it was warm and comfortable.

Her eyes were wandering all over the cave, and he couldn't tear his own away from them. Her eyes were always fiercely blue, but the blue diamonds made them so intense that he couldn't bring himself to look away.

She glanced at him, and caught his staring. She flushed. "What are you looking at me like that for?"

His smile was soft, and he found himself stepping closer. "Like what?"

She ran her hands up her arms, which he saw were covered in goosebumps. "Like...—" Her cheeks burned brighter, and her voice was barely audible when she spoke again. "—Like I'm the only person in the world."

He brushed a piece of hair out of her face, and she leaned into his touch. "Your eyes are brilliantly blue, even more so in here." He explained.

She swallowed, and ever so slowly placed her hands on his waist. "Is that the only thing?"

He pulled her closer, sprawling his hand against her lower back. "Not even close."

He crushed his mouth to hers, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, tugging him impossibly closer. He accidentally discovered a ticklish spot on her hip, and he gave it a playful squeeze.

She whined. "Bellamy."

She seemed to freeze, and he pulled back, finally realizing that she knew what his name was. He raised his eyebrows. "And where did you learn that name?"

She went to step back; stuttering out apologies, but he kept his grip firm. He ran his fingers down her arm, making her shiver. "I'm not mad, Clarke. I just want to know."

She nodded and gulped slightly. "The whores, they told me. I didn't mean to call you that, it just kinda slipped out."

He smiled, and leaned his forehead against hers. "It's alright. It's kind of nice hearing it again, just—call me captain around the lot, ok?"

She nodded, eyes closed. A smile graced her features, and her fingers grazed his sides; making his hips jerk against his will. She grinned. "Can we get back to the other thing?"

He laughed, and dipped his head so their lips brushed. She pressed harder against his lips, and he groaned. He gripped her right arm, and she cried out in pain.

He jumped back, guilt flooding his veins. "What's wrong? Are you ok? What happened?"

Her eyes glossy with tears, she turned so he could inspect her arm. There was a deep gash in her forearm, a faded purple bruise surrounding it.

She attempted a smile. "Another curtesy of the whores."

He turned away as his blood began to boil. "If I had of gotten there sooner—"

"Hey. Don't say that." She said, touching a hand to his shoulder. "You saved me, it's not your fault that they took me in the first place and it's them to blame for anything that happened to me while I was there. Theirs, not yours."

He huffed a laugh. "You seem pretty adamant about that. Any reason why?"

He felt her arms slip around his middle from behind, and her head rest between his shoulder blades. She sighed. "Raven told me that you're always so hard on yourself for things that sometimes you don't even have power over. I don't want you to see yourself as some bad person who doesn't do any good for the world, because you do."

He could almost feel himself believing her. Almost. Maybe he was half decent, but that meant the other half was much less than that and that was who he was. He killed people, he kidnapped princesses and went on missions to kill kings. He wasn't good, and she shouldn't be thinking otherwise.

He broke away from her hold, his anger flaring once more. "And what exactly is the good that I do, Clarke? Attacking other ships for their gold? Killing any of the people that get in my way?" He took a breath. "Kidnapping you?"

Her eyes were bright with confusion, eyebrows furrowed. "Bellamy, you didn't kidnap me. You rescued me from being shot in the head, you kept me safe on your ship and then when it was no longer safe? You risked your life to come after me." Hesitantly, she closed the distance between them. "I don't know what your idea of a hero is, but you're a pretty clear definition in my book."

He sighed, feeling the weight of her words nearly plow into him. He wanted her to stay, stay on the ship—stay with him. It was selfish and wrong, but the thought of her being anywhere else but with him made him sick to his stomach.

He leaned his forehead against hers. "I appreciate that, Clarke." He paused, the words getting stuck in his throat. "I appreciate you."

She grinned, and surged up to kiss him, except it wasn't really a kiss since she was smiling so hard.

He brushed his nose against hers, and then pulled back. "We should probably get going, the sun is going to rise soon."

He went to walk towards the mouth of the cave, but she pulled him back, giving him another long kiss. He let his arms encircle her waist, pulling her flush against him. She ran her tongue along the seal of his lips and he opened his mouth up to her without hesitation.

Her tongue swirled around in his mouth, making him groan loud and unchecked. In retaliation, he skimmed his thumb over the peek of her breast and she let out a breathy moan.

Satisfied, he pulled back. "We really do have to go."

She gave him another peck before moving to the exit. "I know, I just had to get as much as that—" She gestured to his whole body, and he refused to blush. "—as I could before we went back."

He shook his head, laughing, and caught up to her; throwing an arm around her shoulders and tucking her close to his side.

His mouth brushed her temple. "Someday, I'll be able to touch you in front of whom ever I please."

She smiled up at him. "I can't wait."

\---

She dove into the water, laughing, and he was right behind her. Nearly landing on top of her in his haste to chase her.

They swam to the edge of the ship, and he pressed a button that simply appeared out of nowhere. She opened her mouth to question him but he held up a finger, _just wait._

She rolled her eyes, but did as she was told. A few moments later, a ladder descended right to where they were treading. Her jaw dropped in surprise.

Then she smacked him. "There was ladder here the entire time, but you made me jump off your twenty foot something fucking ship?"

He just laughed and began climbing the ladder. "I technically didn't make you do anything."

She pinched his ankle as she climbed behind him. "You lured me in with your abs and sweet words, who has the power to fight those?"

His laugh was bright. "Ah, well, I guess I can't argue with that."

\---

As hard as she tried, she could not stop a smiling from nearly breaking her face. She fell asleep with one secured there, and when she woke it hadn't left.

Raven gave her odd looks through out the day; finally groaning and snapping her fingers in Clarkes face when she began staring off into space for the fourth time. "What are you thinking about that's got you high as a fucking kite?"

She shook her head, trying to rid the memories of the night before from replaying in her mind. She failed. "Nothing. Just in a good mood, that's all."

Raven took a swig of her rum, giving her an incredulous look. "Uh huh. Good mood. _Totally_ believe that."

Clarke flicked some of the water from her bucket in her direction, and Raven squealed, jumping out of the way. She glared. "You do realize you're personally attacking someone who can build bombs, right?"

She laughed, leaning on her mop. "You realize that you're talking to the future heir of Classa, right? Someone who can have you beheaded for any reason I please?"

Raven squinted. "Touché, princess."

She hummed, scrubbing hard at the deck. "That's what I thought. Now, get outta here. You're distracting me from my work."

Raven laughed, and sauntered away, but not before making a useful comment about how Clarke had missed a spot.

\---

Lexas letter came to him when Arkadias was two days away, and he nearly ripped it up when he read it.

He breathed heavily, leaning his head on the table below deck, closing his eyes. He slammed his palm down on the table a few times for good measure before straightening and heading above deck.

He searched for Clarke, and found her laughing with Harper as she ran the wheel. He tried not to let anything but pleasure shine through as he approached them.

Harper immediately straightened when she saw him, schooling her features into a cool expression. "Captain." She greeted.

He nodded. "McIntyre. How are the waters today?"

A wave broke against the side of the ship as she answered. "Rocky, but I'm handling it."

He smiled. "Good to hear." He turned to Clarke, who was quite obviously not hiding her feelings whatsoever. She was nearly sparkling while she stared at him. He cleared his throat, already walking backwards towards his cabin. "Can I speak to you for a moment?"

She nodded, and more or less skipped after him. He couldn't help but shake his head in a soft chuckle.

He had just shut the door when she spun him around and pinned him against it. She already had to stand on her tiptoes to kiss him when he slouched, so to be a dick, he straightened to his full height. She growled as his lips moved farther away from her mouth. "Get back here or get me a stepping stool."

He laughed, and ducked down so their lips met again. She sighed contently and walked backwards, pulling him with her. The back of her knees hit the bed and she sat abruptly, she grinned for a moment before tugging him down too. He would have fallen straight on top of her if he hadn't thrown out his arms on either side of her ribcage.

Her eyes roamed his face for a beat before she surged up to kiss him. She tugged at the hem of his shirt, silently begging.

He pulled back, and she whined. "Clarke, as much as I'd like to continue, this isn't why I wanted to talk to you."

She gave him a funny look as he climbed off her. "What other reason could there be?"

He scrubbed a hand over his face, suddenly feeling the urge for the sea to open and swallow him up whole. "I don't know how to break this kind of news gently, Clarke. Your dad—" He took a harsh breath. "—Clarke, your dad is dying."

She let out a short gasp, sitting up completely. "No, no. That can't be true. How do you know? Who told you?"

He watched in agony as she moved farther away from him to put her back to the wall. "Lexa—the captain of _Cast Away—_ she sent me a letter. Her and I are close, she wouldn't lie to me."

Clarke nodded, and curled into herself, pulling her knees up to her chest. "I can't stay here any longer, Bellamy. I have to be with my father."

He nodded. "I know."

She reached out her hand, and he took it. "I'm sorry." She said.

He quickly shook his head. "Don't be. You need to be somewhere else, I understand." He stood, letting her hand slip from his grasp.

He began to pace, the habit that always helped him formulate a plan. "You and I will take _Crewless_ , and we'll fly back to Classa, while the rest of my crew carries on to Arkadias."

She furrowed her brow. "Arkadias? That's where we've been headed this whole time?"

He paused in his pacing. "I never told you that?"

She rolled her eyes. "I don't think you seem to notice, but you don't talk very much. Especially about whatever goes on up there." She made a swirly motion with her pointer finger in the general direction of his head.

He smiled. "I didn't think anyone ever cared to listen." He winced. It wasn't a large statement, but it still felt as if he had given something away.

She cocked her head, then stood. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she pecked his lips. "I do. Always."

His smile widened, and he leaned down to give her a proper kiss. "Come on, I have to inform Raven and assign a temporary captain."

"We're going to be away that long?"

He shrugged. "That's the thing, I don't know how long I'll be gone. So I have to leave them prepared."

She nodded, suddenly solemn. "Bellamy." She sighed. "You should stay here."

He furrowed his brow. "Why would I do that?"

"Because your crew needs you."

He pressed closer, dreading what was bound to come next; being pushed away. "You need me, too."

A tear slipped down her cheek, and he wiped it away with his thumb. She grasped his hand and held it, but didn't look him in the eyes. "Clarke." He put his mouth close to her ear. "My crew are experienced pirates, they know all the ins and outs sometimes better than I do myself."

Her smile was small, but she still didn't seem convinced. He wrapped her up close to his chest. "I am the captain of this ship, and I will go wherever I please, whenever I please. I'm coming with you, no questions asked."

She pulled back just enough so he could see her eye roll, then reluctantly, she nodded. "Well, only because you're the captain."

He smiled, and pressed a kiss to her forehead before letting her go to open the door.

She went to step through, but he caught her arm. She turned back smiling. "Just can't get enough of me, huh?"

He huffed a laugh, before turning thoughtful. "He's going to be ok. You know that, right?"

She nodded, and squeezed his hand before stepping through the door again. This time, he let her go.

\---

Bellamy assigned Miller as honorary captain, but Raven refused to be left behind.

Bellamy pinched the bridge of his nose. "Raven, what if the ship breaks down—and you're not here to fix it?"

She raised her eyebrows. "Hm. And what if _Crewless_ breaks down and you're left stranded with nothing but the shirts on your backs?"

He sighed. "I would be able to—"

She shook her head. "You wouldn't. Not nearly as fast and accurate as I could."

He huffed. "Clearly, you're not taking no for an answer."

She smiled triumphantly. "Damn right. I'll go pack and meet you two out on the water." She hopped down from her stool, and limped slightly to her cabin.

Clarke smiled and knocked her hip against his. "You mind getting cock-blocked?"

He looked somewhat horrified with this statement. "As if we could even manage anything of the sort while literally _in the air_."

She laughed. "I suppose you're right."

He puffed out his chest. "Get used to it."

\---

Luna ended up coming, too, and Raven insisted it was because she could scout the waters much better than any of them. But Clarke knew it wasn't because of her magnificent navigation skills.

They left soon after dawn, the sun just high enough to give them enough light to see which direction they were headed.

Bellamy had been right, you did get used to the feeling of being up in the air after a while. She even felt brave enough to stick her hand out over the side to allow it to dance in the breeze.

When she looked back in his direction, she saw he was already staring at her—and smiling.

She took a glance at the girls in the front, and when she sufficiently decided they weren't paying attention, she reached out her hand towards his. He grasped it instantly, but in his haste, he let the small wheel slip slightly; causing the boat to dip dangerously to the side.

They all screeched, and he righted it instantaneously, letting her hand drop.

Raven gave him a sharp look. "Are you trying to get us all killed?"

He smirked, seeming to be completely unfazed. "Reyes, you know if I was _trying_ anything—"

"It'd already be done." She waved her hand dismissively. "I know, I know."

She turned away, starting up her and Luna's conversation once more. He beamed brightly at Clarke, and she attempted a smile too, even though her heart was still beating wildly out of her chest.

She decided she needed a distraction, both from Bellamys strong gaze and the amount of space between her and the water. "Hey, Raven." She called. "You gonna tell me how this thing works or what?"

The dark haired girl smiled dazzlingly, and turned all the way around. "Thought you'd never ask."

She adjusted so her legs were tucked up under her, and the expression she wore said she was way wiser than you. Clarke believed it. "I came up with the idea when I was reading about how it was possible for birds to fly. Their bones are hollow, which makes them lighter, which allows them to lift themselves into the air."

She choked a little. "So everything here? Is hollow?" She resisted the urge to send herself hurtling off this death trap.

Raven nodded, then seemed to think about it. "The motor isn't hollow. And the sails aren't. But the body and the mast is. _Anyways_ , the motor gets the boat going fast enough so it can take off, then the wings catch the wind and keep it in the air. There's also thrusters on the bottom so you can fly it even if there's not any wind."

Clarkes jaw was slack. "I'm suddenly feeling very stupid."

They all laughed, and then lapsed into silence.

\---

They arrived in Classa in lass than a week, she thanked the gods for the high winds—even if they did make her sick to her stomach at times.

She practically jumped off the boat, she couldn't get to the castle fast enough.

She raced up the docks, ignoring the blatant stares and loud gasps.

"Princess!"  
"You've returned!"  
"Where have you been?"

She ran past the vendors and quite nearly broke her ankle on some overturned cobblestone—she would have to make sure that got taken care of immediately—she darted up the bridge that led to the castle; her home.

Kyle, the gate man, was there, and he smiled widely when he saw her.

"Good evening, princess." He greeted, allowing the gate to come down so she could cross over the mote into the courtyard.

She smiled. "Good evening." She bowed in quick curtsy before dancing across the platform and jogging to the front doors.

They were always unlocked, considering the fact that there was a mote and a hand operated gate keeping the castle safe already. She pushed them open and took the stairs to her left two at a time.

Before she opened her fathers door, she braced herself for what she might see. He was on his death bed, the whores had really done him in before they had begun chasing after her. The thought made her blood boil.

She took a deep breath, and creaked open the door. She breathed a sigh of relief at the sight she saw in front of her.

Her mother was reading her father his favourite book, and he was sipping at some soup in his lap. He looked completely normal. His cheeks were flushed and round, not sunken and gray like she'd been expecting. His eyes were bright and cheerful, and they instantly brought a smile to her face.

She stepped through the door completely and closed it behind her. The click made them both jump.

Her father gasped. "Clarke! You're here!"

She nodded, smiling, tears already springing to her eyes. She bounded to the bed, jumping onto it so she could hug him.

She wiped at her eyes as she pulled away. "I came as soon as I heard. I can't—I can't believe this happened."

Jake nodded. "They simply roughed me up a little, it was touch and go for a while. But as you can see I'm fully recovered now."

Abby scoffed. "You're still on strict bed rest."

Jake waved her off. "That'll be over soon, too. Clarke, tell us, where have you been?"

Abby nearly fell off the bed when she saw her daughters arm—healing, but still muddled with yellow bruises and a deep gash that still ached. "What in the world happened to you?"

Clarke almost laughed, before Bellamy saved her, she would have been just as horrified as them. But now—she felt different. She couldn't exactly pinpoint what it was; she just knew that she wasn't the same girl who had agreed to marry Graham.

She smiled at both of them. "The man who saved me the day of the wedding, he took me with him on his ship. We were on our way to Arkadias, dad! You know that little island you always used to take me to? Anyways, he and his crew—they're spectacular. There's a mechanic, Raven, she's a genius. And—"

Abby frowned. "If he's as amazing as you say, dear, where is he?"

Clarke felt her cheerful expression drop. "Mom." She said flatly.

She raised her eyebrows. "What? We only want to thank him for being so obviously kind to our daughter." She glanced at the wound once more. "Even if it doesn't seem he did a very good job protecting you."

She bit her tongue, her mother wouldn't want to hear about the countless times Bellamy had done exactly that. "I'll go fetch him, he's at the docks."

She hopped off the bed, and headed for the door, but her fathers voice stopped her. "What's this gentlemans name, Clarke?"

She turned back, not able to stop the smile that spread across her face. "Bellamy. Bellamy Blake."

\---

He heard the guards before he saw them, stomping their way down the docks, headed straight for him. He was reacting before he even had time to think; he quickly untied _Crewless_ and pushed her away from the dock, Raven and Luna still on board.

Raven crossed her arms, scowling. "Bellamy, what the fuck are you doing?"

He threw the ropes inside of the boat, and gave it a final push. "You guys can get away while I distract them." When Raven still didn't move to begin turning on the boat, he growled. "Go! Now!"

They both jumped into action, already lifting into the air when he felt hands grab him. Someone began reading him his rights as he was hauled off the docks.

He screamed up into the air, so his final request would reach Ravens ears. "Tell Clarke I'm sorry!"

She leaned over the side of the boat, and nodded. He went limp in the guards arms.

He didn't fight them as he was thrown into a small cell, and the door slammed closed a second later. They told him he was being put to death in the morning—no trial.

He supposed he deserved it.

Clarke appeared just as the last of the footsteps dispersed. She clung to the bars, tears staining her cheeks.

"Tell me you didn't do it."

He didn't reply. "Bellamy, please. Tell me this is all some big mistake. Tell me they have the wrong guy and I'll believe you. Just—please, Bellamy."

He didn't look at her. "I'm not going to lie to you, Clarke."

She muffled a sob. "How could you? How could you do it?" She cried. "How could you just—" She cut herself off abruptly.

His smile was humorless. "Kill someone? How could I just kill someone? That's who I am, Clarke, I'm a fucking pirate who kills people. And I enjoy it. It didn't seem to bother you when it was people you didn't care about." He spat. She didn't deserve that, but she also didn't deserve someone like him. She needed to realize just how bad he was for her, he couldn't believe he didn't realize it sooner.

She shook her head. "You're wrong. You're different. You don't kill for sport, you do it because you have to, not because it gives you some kind of sick satisfaction."

He let out a growl of frustration, and stood, slamming his hands against the bars. She jumped back. "Stop defending me!"

Her face turned hard. "Stop saying things that aren't true!"

He leaned his face close to the bars. "They are true, Clarke! I'm a pirate! Killing people is in the job description, the sooner you accept that and move on, the better." His already cracked heart broke as another tear slid down her cheek, he turned away.

She stayed for a little while longer, before letting out a muffled sob and running up the stairs.

\---

It was upsetting to find that she hadn't even missed her room. It had a large king bed in the middle, and on either side of it were doors that led out to the balcony. There was a vanity on the right side, and on the left, a desk. The wall that the door was attached to, was lined with booked. It used to be her favourite place in the world.

And now she could only think of _The Black Fleet._

Her mind raced, it darted between who she thought Bellamy was and who he said he was. His cruel words repeated over and over on a continuous loop. Something in her screamed at her to not believe him, that her original judgment was right.

But how could she really know?

She leaped into the air as her balcony doors eased open, and she grabbed the small knife she kept at her bedside table.

It creaked open wider, and Raven popped her head through. Clarke relaxed instantly, but then slipped on a composure she normally used with snooty old men at balls. She continued to get ready for bed, acting as if her mind wasn't ready to explode. "First of all," She said, picking up her hair brush. "We have a front door. Second of all, please go use it because I am really not in the mood for talking."

Raven ignored her instructions and sat on her bed instead. "Clarke, there's something I need to tell—"

She slammed down her hairbrush. "You know, I really can't believe you. That first night I stayed in your cabin, you were so interested in my fathers attempted murder, when it was you all along."

Raven narrowed her eyes. "If you truly believe that, why haven't you called any of the guards to come arrest me?"

Clarke snapped her mouth closed. "I'm trying to be civil."

Raven stood, slowly approaching her. "Or maybe, you know what I have to say is worth listening to."

Clarke rolled her eyes. "I'm pretty sure you're hyping this up too much."

Raven ignored her again, and squatted in front of her. "Clarke, you have to know, it wasn't truly Bellamy all those years ago. His hand was forced, some creep—we still don't know who it was—attacked him and said that if we didn't kill the king, he'd kill us. We didn't have any choice."

She turned away. "You always has a choice." She muttered.

Raven continued as if she hadn't spoken. "But that didn't matter to Bellamy, he still threw off the plan. He purposely did it on his own so he could get caught, he sacrificed his own freedom so we could get away. But then, someone let him out, and we all were free together."

Clarke had paused her braiding. "He just—screwed it up? Just like that?"

Raven leaned back, smile cocky. "I told you, he's got a complex."

She smiled, genuine, then a thought popped into her head. She gasped. "They're going to put him to death in the morning! We have to stop them!"

She sprung up from her chair, nearly knocking Raven over, and walked briskly to the doors that led to her bedchambers. She attempted to yank them open, but they wouldn't budge.

They were locked.

She pulled and pulled, desperate. "Raven, help. They're locked."

She cursed. "I knew I should have taken Miller up on that lock picking lesson." She muttered. "I'm sorry, Clarke, I can't help. At least, not with that."

She ran to the balcony doors, and whistled, in seconds _Crewless_ was hovering near the entrance. Luna smiling ear to ear.

She patted the wheel. "I am totally getting the hang of this thing."

Raven motioned for her to come closer impatiently. "That's great, babe, we'll have congratulatory sex later. Right now, we need to go save Cap'."

She climbed onto the floating boat and sat, taking over Luna's driving position. But when Clarke tried to get on too, Raven held her back.

"You need to be here to distract the guards." She pried Clarkes fingers off the side of the boat.

She put her hands on her hips. "And how exactly am I supposed to do that?"

Raven threw her hands in the air. "I don't know! Use your imagination! Tell them you saw a flying boat and start having a meltdown. I don't care!" She pressed a few buttons, and they zoomed off into the night.

She huffed, and headed back inside. She took a deep breath, and smiled. If she was going to have a meltdown, she was going to do it right.

\---

He slept awfully, which was to be expected. Something in him had hoped that Raven would come along and break him free, but there had been no movement around him for hours.

He watched the sun rise into the sky, and when it was at its highest point, the guards came for him.

They walked him out into the square, shackles on his hands and feet. They led him up onto a platform, where a noose was tied and waiting.

He smiled sarcastically, five years years of killing and torturing people, and he was going to die because of the one time he _didn't_ kill someone.

 _How fucking ironic is that_. He thought, somewhat bitterly.

The slipped the noose over his head, and someone began to read off his long list of crimes.

"...the beheading of two officers..."

 _Actually, it was six, but who's counting._ He rolled his eyes.

His eyes wandered over the crowd, he spotted Clarke, standing with her parents. Her eyes were red and swollen, and she held a handkerchief to her nose. She met his gaze, and he quickly looked away, those tears probably weren't even for him.

And it seemed like the priest was finishing up, anyway. "For all these crimes, each one more offensive than the last, you are hereby sentenced to death. Roman, please do the honors."

Roman, a large buff man with tattoos up and down his arms, grinned and cracked his knuckles. He put his hands to the lever that opened up a passage that Bellamy would drop through.

Bellamy glanced to where King Jake and King Grant were talking. King Grants voice was so low, it sent a chill down his spine.

Where had he heard his voice before?

Roman had paused to chant something that Bellamy wasn't interested in listening to, so instead he connected with Clarke again. _I'll miss you._

Just as if she could read his mind, fresh tears spilled over cheeks once more. He bowed his head, waiting for Roman to shut the hell up and do his job.

Finally, the passage opened, and he fell to the ground underneath the platform. Except—

He wasn't dead.

His neck wasn't broke, and he wasn't in any sort of agonizing pain.

"What the..."

His mind registered the snap of a sword hitting a post, cutting the rope that had been in its path.

Someone had saved him.

He scrambled to his feet, and he heard the sick sound of sword entering and exiting flesh.

Octavia grinned at him from above. "You really thought I wouldn't be here to save your ass again, big brother?" She held out a hand, and he took it, she swung him up onto the platform.

 _Again?_ He gave her a look of awe. "It was you? Who busted me out five years ago?"

She nodded, like, _duh_. "Who else could it have been?"

They both ducked as a guard sliced his sword through the air in front of them. Octavia gutted him and jumped down from the platform. That was when he noticed the pirates.

Lexas crew was there, fighting alongside the Fleets. The whores were there too, and he was pretty sure they weren't on his side. He roamed his eyes over the crowd for Clarke, and saw she was fighting too.

He dashed toward her _—where did she get a sword from? Better yet, how does she know how to use it?—_ and snapped the whores neck.

She smiled, breathless. "Thanks."

He grinned. "Anytime, princess."

She stepped a little closer, taking his hand. "Raven told me. Everything."

He smiled, and pressed a kiss to her temple. "The one time I appreciate her big mouth."

They ran up to the castle, wordlessly beginning to pack Clarkes things.

King Grants voice played back in his head as he tried to remember when he had heard it before. _Now that I have your attention_...

He gasped, and nearly fell right off his feet. Clarke ran to his side, touching his face. "What? What is it?"

He laughed. "It was Grant."

She furrowed her brow. "Who was Grant?"

He stood, and began pacing. "Grant, who threatened to kill my crew if I didn't kill your father. He wanted to start a war." He was slightly in shock.

"Bellamy, what are you talking about?"

He sat on the bed, pulling her down with him. He told her of the man in the mask and cloak, who had threatened him five years ago. She sat quietly when he was finished, soaking it all in.

After a beat, she jumped up. "He has to be exposed."

He nodded, and they set back to work.

\---

_three years later_

She jumped up to greet Bellamy at the door of their cottage. "How was your day?"

He groaned, sitting down at the table to take off his boots. "The kids were absolutely insane. I could barely get them to stay in their seats."

She smiled and kissed his forehead. "I'm sure you did a fine job, Mr. Blake."

He grinned and pulled her into his lap, giving her a long kiss.

She pulled back, waving a piece of paper in his face. "What's that?"

She beamed. "A letter. From Wells. He wrote to inform us that he had just hosted the final ball that Classa would have as its own kingdom. His marriage to Princess Gina of Aliasance is to be set for three days." She put the letter down, and wrapped her arms around his neck. "Who would have thought that all we needed to have to peace was Grant dead?"

He pecked her lips. "Me."

She rolled her eyes and slid off his lap, gathering ingredients to make supper with. "Do you think you'll ever tell the kids how you were once the captain of a pirate ship?"

He laughed. "Not if I can help it."

\---

 _anchor up to me, love_  
_anchor up to me, love_  
 _anchor up to me, love  
oh, anchor up to me, my love_

 

**Author's Note:**

> sorry they didn't fuck i really am
> 
> to sum up 
> 
> \- raven was arrested so she couldn't get to bellamy. octavia sprung her free too
> 
> \- luna and raven became co-captains of the black fleet
> 
> \- clarke handed her crown over to wells who is doing great things 
> 
> \- clarke and bellamy live in a remote village where he teaches and she paints


End file.
